


Tear Away

by queenitsy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny looked ridiculous, but the job was what it was, and it beat waiting tables.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tear Away

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Everyone Loves Danny](http://transfixeddream.livejournal.com/135141.html) fest. Prompt: College fic! Danny makes some side money by stripping at the local gay club. He's also willing to give private shows for a certain someone.

"Hey Dan, you've got a private party in the back," Jim told him, nodding towards the hall and then handing him a shot. "Bachelor party."

"Oh, that'll be fun." Danny rolled his eyes. Bachelor parties meant drunk, handsy guys. Which was fine, if they were the kind of drunk where they really just wanted to shove money into his g-string, but not so much if they were the kind of drunk where they forgot to tip entirely. And besides, usually there was a gay groom and maybe one or two gay friends, but also a few straight guys who were really, really uncomfortable. 

But a job was a job and he actually made money hourly, not just tips, so it was fine. He knocked back the shot and checked to make sure his outfit was fastened properly: tear away pants over a g-string that it had taken him months to get comfortable in, detached cuffs and collar, bow tie. And body oil. He looked ridiculous, but the job was what it was, and it beat waiting tables.

He made his way to the private room, took a moment to brace himself, then threw open the door. "So I hear someone's getting married?"

The room wasn't that big, but eight guys had packed inside, squeezing onto the couch. They'd turned on the disco ball and the music, and judging by the number of empties strewn around, they were already pretty drunk.

"We both are! To each other!" one of them cackled, practically throwing himself into another man's arms. They gave each other sickeningly adorable smiles and kissed. 

"Ooooh," Danny said, smiling, shutting the door behind him. "So this is two for one for me, huh? Pretty great bargain."

He sauntered towards their end of the couch, already starting gyrate in time to the music, but one of the other party-goers grabbed him.

"Hey now, look but don't touch," he said, keeping his voice good natured as he turned to face Mr. Grabby Hands --

"Holy shit. Danny. That _is_ you."

And Mr. Grabby Hands turned out to be Stiles Stilinski, face flushed and eyes wide. Danny faltered, just staring as the twinkling lights threw weird bright spots over Stiles's face.

"You two know each other?" the slightly more sober groom-to-be said, pushing his fiancé off his lap (but still holding his hand). 

"Um, we were... we were kind of," Stiles gave Danny an awkward look, "friends? In high school? Friendly acquaintances, anyway."

"Friends works fine." Danny rolled his eyes a little, because Stiles was apparently still Stiles, even if he'd grown his hair out and his shirt was kind of tight and clingy, and yeah, okay, the three years since Danny had last seen him had apparently been very good to him.

"Wait, _wait_ ," the other groom slurred. "Is this -- is this the Danny you were, freshman year, your high school crush Danny who you talked about all the time?"

Stiles winced and said, "Yep. This would be that Danny. Hi."

Danny waved.

"Well no _wonder_ you, I mean, he's cute." He turned to giggle into his finace's shoulder. "I -- I think we should -- we should give up our lap dance. Donate it. To Stiles."

"You don't have to --" Stiles started.

"Come onnnn," he slurred. "You don't mind, right, babe? And you don't mind, do you, Danny?"

The more sober fiance gave Danny an apologetic shrug. "It's fine with me..."

Danny gave Stiles a long once over, then smirked a little. "High school crush?"

"When I die of embarrassment, can you tell the EMTs it was actually alcohol poisoning?"

Stiles reached for another bottle, but Danny laughed and intercepted him, pressed him back down on to the couch. Stiles's chest was firm under Danny's hand, and when Danny dragged his hand down a little, so were Stiles's abs. Yeah, the past three years had definitely been good to Stiles.

"You really don't have to," Stiles squawked, as Danny leaned down into his personal space.

"I know," Danny said, "but it would kind of be a waste of these tear-away pants if I didn't."


End file.
